


More Than Bargained For

by LilyGilt (Yirry)



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: BDSM elements, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Competition, Dominance, F/F, Mutual Non-Con, Sex as Competition, Victim turns tables on aggressor, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yirry/pseuds/LilyGilt
Summary: Kylara challenges Lessa's position of Weyrwoman. Lessa will make Kylara regret it as much as she does.Not-quite-compliant, canon-divergent AU for kink purposes.





	More Than Bargained For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tonepoem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonepoem/gifts).



_Shards_. It would be R'gul who backed this. Though at the moment, Lessa was just as furious with F'lar. _Tradition_ , he said, which was all very well and good when he picked and chose the parts of tradition he liked!

Leaving her to be blindsided by the rest.

"What good does it do," she asked him acidly, "for queens to fight?"

"None," he said. At least he spoke with fitting seriousness, but he side-stepped the question she was most obviously asking, which was, _why can't this nonsense be stopped_. "The queens must not fight - never fight. And yet that instinct arises... Which is why you and she must come to terms."

Dragonriders. So strangely prudish for all their outlandish customs. "You mean fuck," she said, for the purpose of the shocked look on his face. Shocked, but with a half-smirk. She wanted to slap it off him. There was another face she'd far more like to slap.

"This suits me not at all," she said, and even in curt, firm tones, it was an understatement. She, Lessa of Pern, cringed from the thought. Hated the woman who had insisted on it. The blow was well-aimed.

"I know," he said. "More crucially, so does she."

 _She_ was Kylara. Rider of gold Pridith, first gold daughter of Ramoth, Lessa's queen.

Mere seniority was apparently not enough. Distance could not yet be achieved. Their plans to re-establish Fort Weyr, and send Ramoth’s first golden daughter there with a fighting wing, were out of the question - for now at any rate. The old Weyr required immense work to restore it to habitability. The labour could not be spared. They needed all their fighting strength at Benden, and could not stretch it between outposts.

So, this solution. Pridith and Ramoth hissed at each other, and strained all the other dragons with the need to fight or defend each's chosen queen, and Lessa and Kylara met in Kylara's chamber, and the Weyr pretended it was their own business what they did there.

Lessa imagined crushing Kylara's pretty neck, and was even a little horrified at herself. Perhaps, disgusting as the idea was to her, a watcher should have been employed lest her dragon's desired violence spilled over... No. She was Lessa, Weyrwoman, of an ancient line, and her will was her own. 

Her title too was her own, and would remain so.

Kylara looked at her with a little smile.

"You really didn't see this coming," she drawled. She projected, ambition, desire... and to one of Lessa’s gifts, viciousness too, and a little fear. Lessa leaned into the fear - no. Too soon. She leaned into the desire. Then she moved to slap Kylara.

Kylara, no slouch, caught Lessa's hand in front of her face.

Lessa let her, and curled her fingers, driving her fingernails into Kylara's wrist.

Kylara hissed, but gripped all the harder. Lessa _pushed_ mentally as hard as she could. She wanted this to be over quickly. No matter what she had to do to make that happen.

"I knew you'd make me want this all the more," Kylara crowed. "How you waste your gifts..." She dropped Lessa's wrist suddenly, and moved forward, crowding her much shorter opponent against the wall of her weyr, her ample breasts pushing into Lessa's face. "You make me want to force you to your knees," she hissed. "You make me want to ride your face as you please me. I want to hear you _beg_ for it, Lessa."

"You won't," Lessa spat, and hurried on, "But if you did, you'd never get to feel what I can do." Limp against the wall, all her energy and concentration held in her mind, she reached out again, and pulled. Emptied Kylara of the lust she'd filled her with. Left fear and loneliness and nausea, a _void_.

Kylara's face went white, and her knees buckled. Lessa took immense pleasure in easing her to her furs. She loosened her tight grip on Kylara’s emotions, and, brushing her hand awkwardly from Kylara’s throat to her part-bared cleavage, allowed lust back in, hoping that this was the last major push that Kylara would require for persuasion. Her head was throbbing. _Ramoth, help me._.

The surge of love from her dragon was much needed, but strangely incongruous here. Awkward, Lessa got down on the furs beside her rival, swinging a leg over Kylara's body to crouch on all fours above her. She felt like a stick figure against Kylara's voluptuous beauty. _A strange bargain you struck, Kylara_. But this was nothing about physical attraction, for Kylara, and everything about power. Kylara could force Lessa to fuck her to maintain her position. Force her to bare herself in front of Kylara and touch and be touched in her most intimate places. _You'll get far more than you wanted_ , Lessa vowed.

She bent her head to Kylara's face and kissed her awkwardly. Kylara made a noise of impatience and took control of the kiss, teeth pulling at Lessa's lower lip. Lessa tried to relax, knowing better than to try to enhance Kylara's desire in this moment - better wait until a moment of real physical pleasure. She tried to think of their kissing as any other physical task she had tried to learn. Riding, washing Ramoth. The taste of Kylara's mouth was not F'lar's, and the intimacy was repellent to her.

Attempting to mimic how F'lar sometimes was with her, she moved her left knee in between Kylara's thighs, and pressed - there. Too hard, but Kylara moaned in response. Now Lessa pushed at her again. Kylara liked pain. That would be her undoing.

"Tell me what you like," Lessa said, breaking the kiss, hoping she struck the correct balance: just a hint of subservience, just a hint of offering.

"Suckle me," Kylara said, her tone mocking, pushing Lessa up and and away so that she, Kylara, could pull her garments aside. She pulled Lessa's head back to her freed breast, and Lessa obliged; thinking of unruly babies she had known, she used her teeth as well in sucking on Kylara's full breast. She smiled to herself at leaving a red, smarting mark. A mark that she would never have to see bloom, she dearly hoped. 

"Ah," Kylara said, and bucked against her. _There_. Lessa brought teeth and knee willingly to bear.

Slowly, gradually, following Kylara's instructions, Lessa did to her what she asked, and whenever it called for pain, she added pain and more. Kylara, mocking, urged Lessa to pull her hair, and Lessa tore at it. She clawed at Kylara’s breasts and hips and throat. Drawing on Ramoth's strength, she added to Kylara's lust, driving her wilder and wilder. Yes, Lessa was Kylara's servant now; yes, she lapped at Kylara's cunt and sucked and bit at her inner thighs, and... tonight was a humiliation. But tomorrow, Lessa would be laughing. She was almost laughing now, as she struck Kylara with an open hand and Kylara urged her to a repeat.

Tomorrow, Kylara truly would discover that she had gone too far - that she had urged Lessa to hurt her in ways she would never have sought on her own. She would find that what she had ordered Lessa to give her was days, if not weeks, of pain. Tomorrow, she would limp and wince at every movement. Tomorrow, she would shudder at the thought of this. Tomorrow, it would be very clear which of them had gained the upper hand.

Lessa pinched, and bit, and sucked, and struck, and silently snarled.


End file.
